


Complicated

by moconyx



Series: For Creative Writing [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Child Abandonment, Demons, Devils, Fallen Angels, Gen, Japanese Character(s), Korean Characters, Past Child Abuse, Racism, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Mutilation, Written for a Class, but like racism against devils if that makes sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 11:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19333246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moconyx/pseuds/moconyx
Summary: I am whatever you say I am, I'll be 'wretched', 'evil', and 'unclean'. These words will never harm me again.





	Complicated

_You're not going through it, it's going through you_  
_And once it's all gone, in will come the new you_  
_With a different perspective, from the same point of view_  
_Fully unaffected by the old truth you once knew_

_Connected at the roots to the trunk to the branches_  
_To the leaves and the way they fly away in wind dances_  
_A frantic seesaw; free-fall in midair that represents_  
_The floating folly of us all being here_  
_We are complicated creatures, huh?_  
_-IN-Q_

  
His eye was swollen shut and he was sure he had a rib relocated to a position it should not have been. Black goo seeped from his lips reeking of copper and iron. This was the day that Park Joon Ki was sure he’d die, similar to how he came into the world; weak, screaming, bloody, and fists balled as if he were clinging to life. The only difference was he couldn't hear his mother's voice but rather the cracking of his skull against pavement… or was that the hairline fracture forming on one of his horns.

He didn’t remember much about his mother or father; he just knew it was some sort of forbidden love story that ended in tragedy. His parents weren’t by any means good people in society. His dad worked in the drug trade, human and his mother was a ‘'exotic dancer” of sorts, a devil. Their fairytale ending would have them fated to die together when he was very young. Too young to remember his mother's face or the color of her hair or too young to remember if his father even held him.

He was left in the care of his grandmother, strict and just as mean. The woman commanded just as much respect as she did fear, which he gave her both in equal measure. She lived out in a rural area, perfect for bringing up a boy of his nature. It was easy to keep him in isolation. The old woman made sure to remind him how much of an evil temptress his mother was.To give birth to a child with red skin. She had to be a devil herself to seduce her son.

Joon would climb trees way too high, just to watch the other children go to school. He’d see them dressed in bright yellow hats walking in clusters. He wasn’t allowed to go to school, he wasn’t allowed to see other children or other people. He couldn’t even leave the house.

Part of him was thankful for his grandmother, he knew if he was left alone he’d probably be stuck under a magnifying glass and studied but… part of him… hated her. Hated that she was so cruel, so strict, hated that she would discipline him with a bundle of bamboo sticks. She’d tell him she was purifying him of evil thoughts. Evil thoughts? He hadn’t had a single one. He liked to think he was a normal boy that liked to run and play; he wasn’t capable of something like that. But he didn’t hate her as much as he hated himself.

There were times, quite often in fact, that he didn’t want to look into mirrors. Times here he’d try to grip his small horns and try to break them without knowing any better. It would hurt but not hurt as much as it did to have them. When he was ten years old, he managed to get his hands on a hacksaw from the shed. He barely sawed halfway through it before was caught by his grandmother. It was one of the rare times that the woman hugged him.

The flick of a switchblade snapped him back into consciousness, maybe he was just watching his pitiful life flash before his eyes. He lifted himself on his elbows to gaze up at one of the angels, or rather those that fell from grace.

“You shouldn’t have come here. This is Damien’s territory…” They said running their thumb along the edge of the knife, no doubt making a paper thin cut in their own flesh. He didn’t even know who Damien was.

“I-” His voice came out in a crack, his hand clutched a rib. “I didn’t know. But I swear, I’ll leave. I swear it.” This had been the first time in so long speaking to another person and he was begging to live.

“Can’t risk you coming back here. We don’t want your kind here.” The passed the knife off to a larger fallen. “Mark him.”

“What?! Please, I promise I didn’t come here to… to cause trouble. I’m not evil.”

“You’re a devil, devils are evil.” It was this same Mickey Mouse, black and white methodology. They weren’t even angels claimed by Eden, they fell because of Lucifer… shouldn’t they be the ones to believe him of all people.

The large man came over to him, kicked him onto his back and planted a boot under his ribs. The knife sliced through his shirt before cutting into the flesh among his ribs, each character carved with care, slow and cutting deep. By the time he finished the last one, it left Joon quivering as tears fell from his screwed shut eyes.

‘Wretched’. That was the word they placed on his body, tar colored blood seeping from the wound.

He opened his eye to see frost creeping up the octopus shaped slide near them only made him tremble more. It wasn’t until they exhaled, that they found out they weren’t alone in this torture party.

“Fuck it’s her, we should get out of here.” What did they mean by her? Who was this person and why were these guys scared of her?

Joon’s eyes landed on a woman wearing a long white veil over her head, shielding her face from view but it was clear this ice cold was radiating from her. The angel’s booked it out of their like dogs were nipping at their heels as they ran.

He tried to pull himself up but his arms felt boneless.

“Stop struggling.” The woman waited before lifting the veil from over her eyes, that he was face to face with brown eyes and light freckles.“You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Joon could really only see out of one eye so he had to squint harder with his other eye, causing his pupil to shrink to a thin slits. “Why… I told them I… wasn’t evil.”

The woman’s brow raised, she didn’t seem to know what he was on about but she let him talk. Let him blabber on about how he’d gone through the effort of trying to prove he was harmless. He wasn’t any different from any other man in the twenty-one years he’s lived. When he finally stopped she told him something that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

“If people say you are evil, let them believe it.” She said kneeling down and her hands passing over his wounds in an attempt to patch him up. Each injury and cut knitting and coming together slowly, enough to stabilize him so he would stop bleeding over the concrete.

“What?”

“Become what they think you are and it can never be used to hurt you.” Her words sounded familiar, as if he’d heard them in a book. But it made sense to him, no one ever believed him because he couldn’t be trusted. His grandmother, the angels all believed he was capable of horrors… well they hadn’t seen anything yet.

This was the day that the old Joon Ki died and a new one rose from his ashes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, just so you know... JoonKi is my baby I love him to death, I wanted to give him an origin story and I also had to write fiction for my creative writing class. And this is going to seem super lame... I literally chose this story over possibly writing a love story for the Archangel Gabriel and Lucifer and how he fell and all that stuff. But I felt it was super complicated and emotional and it would have been too fucking long for a creative writing class when my professor gave me a limit of no more than 2,000 words.
> 
> Should I drop all my creative writing stories in like one big collection... I dunno?


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